


Lacuna

by Tiredgays



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Past, Thomas and Mary are twins, Thomas is the true heir to Downton Abbey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiredgays/pseuds/Tiredgays
Summary: Thomas Barrow didn't plan on getting shot in his shoulder and he certainly didn't plan on receiving a letter from his 'parents'  stating that his not their child. It will unravel his past and everything he knows. Finding out the family he always wanted was the one he'd been a servant to, being shoved into a whole new world and position will Thomas be able to find his place.  Will he find the love and acceptance he'd always wanted.Starts during Season 2





	Lacuna

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to have a take on what would happen if Thomas was the true heir to Downton and how it would affect him the Crawleys and everyone around. I wanted to see how different life could have been for Thomas and I've wanted to try this for some time and I really do love the concept even if it isn't plausible at all. I dont know how often I will be able to upload but I'm going to try and keep this fic going. Hope you all enjoy!  
> Warning for this chapter there is implied domestic abuse towards the end, nothing graphic.

On his wedding day last year Robert Crawley could not say that the women beside him was one that he loved or let alone knew that well. He had married her solely for her money, his young bride knew this as well. But a year later looking to his wife Robert could never deny his love for Cora and as she lay in bed in the early morning of a frosty September. Robert cursed himself for being blinded by her dowry and beautiful looks before seeing the sweet, intelligent, and loving women that she is. Of course one doesn't need to love someone to marry them that was certainly the view his parents shared yet he still wished that he felt that swell of love and adoration on his wedding day that he now feels every time he lays eyes on Cora. Growing up he never saw his own parents exchange looks of fondness or attachment, he had figured from a young age that there was no love between the two. He tried to understand how they could continue living together despite this but looking back he understood that it wasn't how they did it, it's why, neither of them could let such shame come to the family so they stuck together through disputes and cutting insults at the table when no one was there to be entertained yet at the same time smiling and laughing when the guests were at the abbey.

Being sent off the Eton wasn't a massively joyous occasion but it wasn't one full of sorrow either. Although he did feel slightly envious of the boys whose mamas would write and send sweets to, his own never knowing how to be so openly affectionate.

Looking over to Cora, breathing softly with her hair sprayed over the silk pillow he promised that they would not be like his own parents, he would only have to wait a couple more months till their first child would enter the world and he was beyond giddy like he was a young frivolous maid who had just falling in love for the first time. Ever since Cora told him she was in the family way, Robert hasn't been able to take his mind of having a son. Daydreams of being a father and taking his son out, teaching him to ride and to shot, having an heir and teaching him to run the estate has griped Robert since they found out, of course he always had to reprimanded himself knowing that he or anyone else for that matter had no control over the sex of the child.

~ * ~ *~

20th of November found Cora Crawley screaming and cursing to the high heavens and back. Lying on her side on the birthing bed she dammed and shouted at all the nurses who were rushing around trying to get the room ready and calm her down. The pain and fear was like nothing she had ever felt before. After 4 hours of labour Cora was utterly exhausted and angry she wanted the baby out and she wanted it out now!

Dr Clarkson had never been the leading man in a birth before, working at the hospital in the village for a few years now as assistant to an old Doctor Steeler ment he had scrubbed in to help with some difficult cases but to be the main man delivery Lord and Lady Granthams first child, although an honour of course, was also terrifying the poor man senseless as he worried what could happen if he messed up. The logical part of his brain stepped in thankfully telling him to stop flailing about and do his job, one he'd been working towards for years and one he knew well.

“Now your ladyship if you could lie on your back and scoot down.” Clarkson asked as he tries to push his nerves into a semblance of order so he could continue the task with the utmost professionalism.

Lady Grantham did as she was bid, wanting nothing more than to finally have her baby and knowing that arguing with the doctor would not help, even if getting to shout at him seemed more preferable.

She pushed when told to and stopped when asked screaming and shouting the whole time with language she knew her mother and grandmother would absolutely not agree with, but in the time it was acceptable because she was the one who was pushing a child out of her body and not anyone else who would be offended by a lady swearing like a sailor in a rough pub. Until she at last had her child. A girl. Her daughter

Cora was overwhelmed with emotions, she had a daughter, a beautiful healthy little daughter, one she promised to cherished to the end of times. As her eyes started to swell with tears of joy she saw the doctor whisper something to the nurse closest to him  
“What's the matter.” Was something wrong with her girl? Why hasn't she been handed her? But her fears were swatted away when the nurse, who had been cleaning her, came back with a swaddled baby and placed her on Cora's chest

Looking down a fresh well of tears sprang up, her daughter was beautiful she had dark blue eyes like many newborns Cora had heard but there was a flicker of brown in them, not plain like some would say but magnificent in their own right just like Cora's grandmothers. Dark hair had just started to sprout from her head in the same brown shade.

“Lady Grantham” Cora was broken from her trance to see the doctor staring worriedly at her “Did you know that you'd be having twins?”

The question rung in her ears. No one had told her twins, no one had even had an inclining that she would be having twins, she couldn't handle twins it had hurt once she didn't want to go through it all again.  
With the realisation that she must look like a fish with her mouth bobbing open and close in shock she started to shake her head but before she could get any words out to deny any knowledge of twins another great cramp ran through her, confirming she had another baby on the way.

A nurse quickly took the girl away as everyone hurried ready for the next baby to come, it was lucky that they had thought to bring more towels as they swapped the dirty for clean.

The second didn't come as easy, if Cora thought she was in pain already this one was throwing the biggest fit and according to Clarkson didn't want to get out. But Cora was determined and wouldn't let the baby have their way in spite of her exhaustion of already having given birth.

The boy was small, smaller than his sister and Dr Clarkson didn't look happy. Cora didn't know how to feel seeing the doctors worry, she had done her duty as some like her mother-in-law would say. Yet the doctor and nurses didn't rejoice as they did only 10 minutes before.

“I believe, seeing how the boy is only 5 pounds 6 ounces and the girl is over 8 pounds” announced to Cora after he and his nurses had taken him over to weigh and assess him. “That he has intrauterine growth restriction, this means he didn't grow well during the pregnancy for a number of reasons but he is physically mature and this shouldn't be a problem once he starts to put on weight but…” Clarkson stumbled over how to put the next part “he's weak my lady he has a small chance he could die, but in a loving house where he can be provided for he should pull through just fine.” He wanted to convey more sympathies but he had to remain professional and half hoping that neither Lady Grantham or Lord Grantham would see him at any fault

“Can I see him?” Lady Grantham asked and a nurse handed her son over to her with a sympathetic smile to the boy

He felt smaller in her arms, but he looked perfect his wails a signal of his fight, she knew instantly that he wouldn't let his size hold him back and would tower over all those who would think he'd give up so easily  
His eyes were so bright against his reddened skin and a patch of dark hair sat on top of his head. His eyes, ears, nose were all exquisite to her and she knew then and there that she would love him long after she had perished from the earth and that he and his sister would always know of their mother's love.

She held him closer to her chest, and in doing so saw a small tan patch on his back left shoulder, looking closer it looked like a waxing crescent moon that would be hung in the sky surrounded by millions of stars. She kissed the mark softly “My little moon,” she whispered softly in his ear.

~*~*~

It was twins. A boy and a girl. Robert had never imagined that they would have twin babies, he could not remember such happening before in Crawley history, but here in his and Cora’s arms lay two tiny babies. They were both perfect in their parents eyes, and although Dr Clarkson's words rang dire, in that moment together they were content to be still and calm resting with their newborn children. Robert had got what he hoped for and so much more and he couldn't of been happy in that moment.

“Mary.” Cora spoke up, he breath still uneven from the arduous task “for my grandmother.” She stroke the little girl's face as she struggled in her mother's arms trying to piece together this new word she had been flung into, but settled down knowing she was rightly safe where she was.

“She's marvellous my darling” Robert said “our daughter.”

“What shall we call him?” Cora looked over to the smaller baby, almost hidden in his father's arms a soft smile on her lips at the sight. His mystic moon birthmark hidden by the soft white cloth he'd been swaddled in.

“I was thinking Patrick, for my father but now maybe Albert for him. Albert Crawley, our son and heir. Are they not just perfect darling.”  
Cora laughed at her husband display of passion

“Mary and Albert. We can't forget what Dr Clarkson said about him though.”

“Nonsense he's strong he'll pull through just fine.” Robert looked on at his son in pride, his tiny fingers were trying to grab the air around him and colliding with Robert's mouth and noise. Albert started to open his eyes, like his sister he wanted to gain knowledge about this world and its inhabitants

Cora just gave another small sigh. “Let's let them rest now they've done enough for one day, haven't you” smiling to both her little miracles filling with such love only a mother could possess.

~*~*~

Of course happiness is never constant, even the best of lovers can have quarrels, and fate is never kind and fate cannot discriminate. Some would call it luck-good or bad, others would call it destiny, some didn't believe in it at all but fate didn't care if it wasn't believed in or had a new name nor would it stop or change because humans didn't like its intentions.

But none of the Crawleys believed fate would be as unkind to them, as it was. The twins were now a couple of weeks old, Albert had thankfully put on weight and was soon catching Mary up. December had approached Downton Abbey and everyone was readily preparing for the celebrations. Maybe they could blame their idleness on that or something else, but the truth of the matter was that no-one even thought anything bad would fall on the beloved twins. They had captured the hearts of the whole abbey and even the dowager was enamored with her grandchildren. Everyone was busy the day it happened, or everyone claimed to be, the twins were supposed to be getting ready to sleep for the night (or for a couple of hours before one or the other started to wake up the nanny all night long) and dinner was getting underway.

Even though everything seemed to be going smoothly, as the first course had started. An awful shriek was heard throughout the abbey, up high to the drafty attics to the kitchens below.

Nanny Hackett, was in hysterics running down the main stairs shrieking and emitting suck high pitched wails that even a dog would run from, making it impossible to understand what she was saying.

“Mrs Hackett you cannot behave in such a way nor can you use the main staircase without the children” Mr Carson grumbled, annoyed that such a display was happening in the house and that he had to excuse himself from the Family's dinner to sort out what was happening, when by all rights he should be overseeing the footmen as his new role of butler. He would not let some nanny ruin the reputation of the household.  
But hearing Carson say children made Hackett burst into another round of hysterics as she tried to tell what had happened between her sobbing and sniffling.

“What in gods name are you saying?” Carson was close to shouting at the bumbling women. Huffing as he pulled out his handkerchief to her. One he had received just last christmas for his services and a gift for his new role in the house.

“He's gone...he's gone” the nanny continued to sob, hiding her face in his handkerchief.  
Carson started to pale his eyebrow creasing as he realised the enormity of the situation. He could not let this happening he could not believe that something could've happened  
“You must be mistaken Nanny Hackett, I'm sure the boy is fine” his words uncertain as he tried to make himself believe what he was saying.  
“Noooo” she wailed back “I was there a minute ago and when I got back he was gone, I was only gone for a minute and I left them both with the nurse-”  
“Nurse?” Carson cut in. “No nurse arrived today and certainly not at this late of an hour”

“Carson whatever is the matter?” Lord Grantham had come to see what the racket was, looking disturbed at it all.

“My Lord, there was no nurse scheduled to see Master Albert tonight?”

“No of course not why ever would you think so?"

“It seems Nanny Hackett has had a bit of a turn, and I shall call for Mrs Dobrey to come collect her and a new nanny will need to be found.” At this the nanny began to cry profoundly again and turned to beg to Lord Grantham  
“Please Please don't send me away there was a nurse, a woman came in saying she was here to check the young masters weight I only popped out the room a second or two I thought they'd be safe with her but when I came back… he.. he..He was gone!”

Lord Grantham's face turned stony as he looked between his two servants, ignoring all dignity he'd been taught from birth he ran up to the nursery as he pleaded to all Gods and saints that the boy was still there.

He wasn't. In his place was a doll, with blonde hair and green eyes, her smile mocking all those that looked upon her. It took all of Robert's strength to not cry then and there. Looking around the nursery he saw the light green blanket that had been given to him as a baby and that he had bestowed to his son strawn on the floor. Dropping to his knees he cradled the blanket with fists tight. Staring blankly at the soft cotton, that had started to worn, deaf to all around him.

Mary's cries the only sound

~*~*~

Bettie Goff was not a good women, she knew this. Stealing another woman's baby had to be one of the worst crimes someone could do, yet here she was with a baby, an earl's baby. She did not know why the man wanted her to get this particular baby and she didn't care. She had wrapped him in an old potato sack she had found coming in through the yard

Sneaking in was easy, no-one stopped her going round the back through the servants hall and with her white gleaming nurse uniform none of them gave her a second too busy to notice that she wasn't the one who had been coming before, too busy to wonder why she had arrived at such a time, much too late in the evening for a nurse to suddenly arrive.

Trying to find the way up to the nursery was a difficult challenge, she had never stepped foot in such a grand house before and hopefully she wouldn't be returning to this one after she had done her task. Once arriving at the right corridor Bettie began to prep herself, she had seen how nurses carried themselves and tried to do the same. She began to walk towards the nursery door hoping that she looked professional and not at all nervous or on edge.  
“I'm here to check the babies” Bettie winced knowing that wasn't the right thing to say and hoping that it would just come off as arrogance and not agitation. She walked forward into the nursery. He wanted the boy, she knew this and looking at him she couldn't see why he was a small weedy thing. Asleep she couldn't tell if he had a good set of lungs or not but looking back to the nanny sitting in the rocking chair sewing with bulging dark bags beneath her eyes it was fair to say that she had been kept up by both babies.

Bettie didn't want to look at the girl, she barely wanted to look at the one she was about to take. So she kept her eyes on the nanny and her sewing, hoping she leave soon so Bettie could put this all behind her. Thank the Lord. The nanny did eventually stand up with a sigh as she mumbled gratefully at being able to finally go do something or the other, that Bettie didn't catch.

The next part would be harder, Bettie knew that she have to keep the boy asleep so his cries wouldn't give her away. They may of not questioned her coming in but if she was seen leaving with a baby it would be game over. Putting him in the sack she brought hid his identity but Bettie knew it would still be odd for a nurse to carry out an old bag of potatoes but it was the only plan she'd got, not planning had been a terrible way to go about this but Bettie had hoped that if she just ignored the man he would go away. He didn't and Bettie was here trying to place an infant into a bag without him waking up.

Sneaking out was a lot harder as she had to continually hide behind walls to stop herself getting caught, _cor_ she thought _no-one in this place has got to have any privacy,_ as maid after maid went past with Bettie having to hide in various rooms and closets till they got out of sight.  
Making it out the door, unnoticed is ultimately the best and worst part of Bettie’s life she knew she had to get away from the house to the pub where she's supposed to drop the boy off. A piece of her heart ached for the boy in her arms, yet she kept going knowing both her and her own boy were the ones who would pay the price if she was caught.

Getting to the Dog and Duck, Bettie was just expecting to place the boy in the sack for him to be collected once she had left the scene. Unfortunately she was met with an unpleasant surprise. She had no idea how this man in front of her had got to know about her situation with Ollie or knew how he was illegitimate, but somehow he had known and used the information to force her to do his biddings.  
Seeing his slimy face and greasy blonde hair, made Betties anxiety increase, afraid he wouldn't hold up his end of the deal and go tell her mother about her son. Bettie couldn't live with the shame it would bring.

He sneered at her with his dark emotionless eyes that seemed to just be a pit of blankness on his scared face.  
“Why are you here?” Bettie tried to ask with shred of confidence but all that came out was a slight squeak “I've got him if that's what yer worried about, I held up my end now you've gotta hold up your's, that’ what you promised” Bettie knew she saw starting to ramble but her mouth was moving quicker than her brain telling her to stop.

“What took so long ay, I've been standing 'ere for ages waitin’ for you to show up.”

“I tried to be quick but I couldn't be caught could I.” Bettie was close to shouting at him now, his impertinence and impatiences stirring something inside her

“I wouldn't be starting nothing with me now darlin’ not when I know 'bout your precious Ollie.” The man gave a smirk at his threat.

“Leave him out of this! Who even are you? What do you want from me?”

“You know what I want from you darlin.” he picked a box that had been resting by his feet and held it out to Bettie.

Bettie placed the boy in. hating the feeling of giving a baby to a man like this especially having to place him in a box. She needed to though or her life and her sons would be over  
“Why him?” Her sudden questioning shocking both her and the man.  
“Precious little heir will get you a lot of money if you say the right thing.”

Bettie didn't want to know any more, believing that if she stays ignorant to the rest of the mans plot she'll be able to just image the boy was soon back where he belonged and that her actions had not doomed him to a short life due to this loathful man. But she could not go without knowing one thing a piece of information that would be useless to her for a few decades.  
“What is your name I deserve to know”

“How could I be so rude to a little lady such as yourself,” he mocked “why they all call me Billy Scott if you ever call me don't you worry darlin' I'll come sort you out good.”

Bettie humphed at his rudeness and walked briskly away hoping she never hears that name ever again no matter how ordinary it sounded she new the evil that lay beneath.

~*~*~

Billy carried the box with little care for the boy inside, he carried it into the pub and when remarked upon he told the barkeep he was delivering something for his brother.  
The toffs were probably all starting to worry for the boy but Billy wasn't scared of them finding here, _probably never set foot in a pub_ , he thought as he brought a couple of pints before he headed of to the train station.  
In the end he had a couple more than a few drinks. He was slightly swaying as he walked. The boy started to cry as he was jostled more and more. Billy tried to get him to shut him up knowing if he got caught now his whole plan was up in air and he'd probably find himself behind bars for having some rich man's kid, giving up in an abandoned alley he ripped away a section of the potato bag and tired it round the baby's head, blocking his cries  
“Now you stay quiet or someone'll find themselves swimming with the fishes.” the baby couldn't understand him but Billy was getting more frustrated and he couldn't have a bloody crying box next to him all the way back to Manchester.

With the boy's cries blocked buying tickets and getting on each train back home was almost effortless, Billy had never thought he had any nerves. He certainly had known as a boy, when he go out looking for older boys to fight and he certainly didn't have any now. Besides the feeling he got when he looked at the box was not one of nerves or dread, he’d sorted the situation the kids cries could not alert anyone and he was almost back home.

~*~*~

Billy was walking back home, that was more like an abandoned shack, behind some explicit clubs. Prostitutes and all sorts were always hanging about. Easy sex and fights two of life's greatest pleasures. But Billy was sick of the tiny cramped shack. With no skills and no money he didn't see himself climbing up the ladder anytime soon, until he got an idea to get rich quick. Turning down the first ally to get home Billy was walking with a step of pride knowing that soon hed come into a large fortune all his own.

 

Billy had double-crossed many men in his life, it was all about playing the game those that got left behind just weren't up to scratch. Billy never felt bad for doing it not once, men would often try and get revenge after drinking too many pints. It always ended the same though, them writhing in the mud with Billy victorious. Regardless of the countless times it happened seeing his old mate Charlie come out an old run down pub searching for just the same shocked Billy to the crore.

Dropping the box, a cry could be heard, the cloth had probably come loose or the boy's screams were too loud for it to block them anymore after suffering the fall to the ground. Neither Billy or Charlie cared to see if he was okay or to sooth him instead his cried became the backdrop to their fight. It didn't last long. Charlie was too drunk to properly take a hit and so it became more of a beating, until Charlie reached into his pocket to reveal a small swiss army knife. Billy laughed, his knuckles awash with Charlie's blood. He was unafraid.

Struggling to get up off the floor, Charlie kept his knife brandished out in front, to warn Billy of trying to continue.  
“You think” Charlie spat some blood out his mouth “You think you can just do that to me and walk away Billy? We were mates how could you ?!” Staggering up he look directly at his oldest friend they'd always being a duo they alway would be, well that's what charlie thought anyway him and Billy against the world. But then he was kicked out like some unwanted puppy, but he refused to beg and scrape to be let back inside he would fight for himself and himself only.  
Billys laughs spurred his aggravation, to be taunted treated so low that he wasn't even garnered an answer.  
As Billy continued to laugh Charlie lunged forward stabbing Billy's chest Again. Again. Again. Till he couldn't see any more, couldn't think over and over and over until he could no longer here that laugh. That laugh that had once meant so much to him as a child but had turned against him and taunted him day and night. Again. Again.  
His hand was now the one covered in blood and the stream was no-longer his. Realisation that you've done something bad hits you like a thousand bricks. Many times Charlie had felt like a naughty school-boy about to be found by his teacher. But this wasn't like that at all.  
His head felt so heavy in that moment and all his sense began to blur, stumbling away from the damaged body as it fell unceremoniously with a thud.

The thud brought him back, there was crying from someone but he hadn't the time to investigate his body ran before his brain caught up. Leaving the body and the cries behind.

~*~*~

The boy's cries were not for nought.

Having to work late till it was early in the morning, was not something Emma enjoyed she already had to convince her mother to let her get the job, and that took months. If she knew how late Emma was walking home all alone she would've had a fit. But a baby's cries soon shocked her out of her misery. Looking down a dark alley, Emma could not see anyone or anything, she was a sensable girl though and knew that it would be terribly dangerous for her to go down. But a baby was crying and so she deemed it a noble enough mission to go.  
The wailing grew stronger the further she carried her path. The wetter the ground had become Emma tried to step around the damp, she strained her eyes closer to inspect. It had not rained for a few days, a luxury in England, and the dampness of the alley seemed to feel as though they had just suffered a flood. Oh how she wished she didn't, as upon closer look the ground was not covered in water or even sewage, but a mix of brown mud and red. Blood was covering the whole alley. Emma may be a responsible one but the mystery of this clouded all her senses and pulled her to find out whose it was.

A body with a deep stab wound in the centre of the chest. Horrified Emma looking up she saw scars covering the dead man's face. Emma recognised this man and she wouldn't say seeing him dead like this made her any mournful. She knew she couldn't go home and tell her mother her tormenter is dead, how many times had this man bagged money of her poor old mum. She wouldn't sing for joy incase her mother did find out what Emma did but she wasn't go to help him anyway. Dead or alive. He was a pain and not her problem. Let the rats get him.

Billy Scott wasn't why she was down here anyway she had much bigger fish fry. She set about finishing the task she started. Doing so in such little light was not easy but the cries of the babe helped her to know how close she was.  
Discovering a baby inside a box, wrapped in a old potato bag, made Emma more broken-hearted than she'd ever been. How could anyone be so cruel to such an innocent being? Why was life full of such tragedies?

Emma would have to find these answers another day as she cradled the baby in her arms pondering, he couldn't keep the babe for herself even with her job and wage there wouldn't be enough for her, her mother, and this baby. Emma knew of the orphanage that was close by where she lived, they'd take him in, probably think she was some young mother who needed to hide an illegitimate child. But they'd take him and that was all that counts. If he was still there when she had enough Emma swore she'd come back for him.

The orphanage was too grey. That's what Emma thought. No happiness seemed to steep through the bricks, no joy radiated out the windows and no love was present at all. But it was somewhere for the boy to go, he might be adopted he still so very young Emma tried to convince herself as she waited for someone to answer the door. He could still have loving home but that was thinking in fairytales and this was the real world and the real world had a large women red faced wearing a lilac housecoat open the door  
“Can i help you?” her anger at being awoken so early prevalent

“I'm sorry Matron, but..” Emma didn't know what to say instead holding up the baby so the Matron could see.  
With a humpf she replied “Give him to be and I'll sort everything out,” grabbing for the boy Emma wished she could console and coddle him as he started to cry again but he wasn't hers and she had already handed him over.  
“Goodnight” the Matron said still fuming as she closed the door in Emma's face. Downtrodden Emma returned home, praying to all that was out there the boy would find a loving home.

 

~*~*~

Marie Barrow, was at her sisters to give birth to her long awaited second child. However there was two problems the main being that she was not pregnant and the other that she had no sister in Manchester to stay with. Tricking her husband and the whole village had not been a walk in the park still she had set it up. In the hopes that Nathaniel would be more loving if she would give him a son. She knew he wanted one and she knew that their only daughter and Marie not being pregnant for the past 7 years after two miscarriages had made him more angry he brought it up every time they had a fight. Well every time Nathaniel would stumble home drunk and proceed to shouted and punch everything in his way before passing out on the floor of their small apartment, above his precious shop.  
Marie was not an affectionate women nor was she interested in how her actions affected or hurt anyone else, she knew the only way to fight in this world was to look after only yourself. If pretending to be pregnant then finding a baby boy, took Nathaniel's anger off her and calmed her nerves then that was what it was going to take.

Waiting in a dull office in some orphanage that she had found, made Marie start to worry she needed to be getting home soon, she didn't have any money to stay the night anywhere and she couldn't go walking around and getting trains once it had turned dark, anything could happen . She scolded herself quietly as here hands started to shake with worry as her brain kept producing worst case scenarios of her dead or abandoned forced to live alone in the streets, now was not the time to let such frivolous anxieties run wild. But they kept up, what if when she got home Nathaniel would know it wasn't his or what if he didn't want it and all this effort was for nothing. If Nathaniel got angry Marie knew she’d be the one to pay the price.

“Here you go Mrs Barrow, he's the youngest we've got came only two days ago, normally your husband would be expected but of course we understand he's in to much pain to travel, we hope that your journey back will be pleasant” the matron said bringing in a baby and handed him to Marie  
Looking at him Marie noted that he resembled her somewhat with his dark hair and blue almost grey eyes. Yes he would do just fine.

“Thank you Matron” Marie smiled and she stood up “If everything is done here i'll take my leave and i hope you have a pleasant day too”  
The Matron seemed more than happy to get all the procedures with, normally having to answering new parents questions after they've received the child could be quite tiresome.  
“Of course we hope you will be happy” remarked the matron seeing the new mother out the door, one less mouth to feed was a blessing to her.

“Oh I'm sure I will be” Marie replayed as she headed off back to the village of Stockport with the new baby. He was calm and quiet and Marie was eternally grateful.  
“I'll call you Thomas” she decided and the baby squealed in approval. Innocently unaware of the life that now lay ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> If you have any questions please comment and I will try to answer.


End file.
